S.M.S. Seydlitz at the Battle of Jutland
Some information relating to S.M.S. Seydlitz's service at the Battle of Jutland.
Account of the Chief Engineer
Translation taken from the United States Navy's Monthly Information Bulletin.[1]
With the command of "ship clear for action," the stokers of the voluntary watch took their posts for the damage control. The first officer, Capt. von Alverslebon. and the chief reserve engineer, Lucke, the chief of the stokers' voluntary watch, climbed into the conning tower, the armored hatches were closed, and they all sat down there in a fairly crowded condition, 12 men in a room of 25 cubic meters. The large schematic diagram of the ship hung ready—on this plan every room could be fitted with a red plug when the room filled with water. Whence comes the name "plug board."
The battle could begin — — — Rrrums ! went our first salvo to the great pleasure of everyone. But soon everybody had his hands full of work and computation and reflection so that one's head was whirling. Crack ! it burst right in the neighborhood—that could be told by the hard bump or shock. At the same time water burst out of an upper corner. The fire extinguishing apparatus had to be torn out; for that reason the apparatus was put out of commission. A small brass tube containing the notes and sketches from the world above burst through the vacuum tube. The following report was read aloud:—"Shell struck division XIII starboard. The deck officers' mess is destroyed and is burning. The front electric switchboard is out of commission." The firemen's crew No. 2 received the order to put out the fire. For this it was necessary to put the fire extinguishing apparatus into working operation again. If in so doing, a considerable amount of water got into the hold of the leakage canalization, there was still enough coming up above in the extinguisher pipes, and that was the more important.
The firemen pressed on forward up on the middle deck. More gas masks were torn off than were put on, the hoses were unrolled and No. 1 was turned directly onto the center of the fire. "Extinguisher 2 water," ordered the chief, and a heavy stream of water poured into the burning ruins. Thick smoke and hot, scorching heat struck No. 1. the holder of the hose nozzle, but he directed the hose unswervingly on the devouring heat, always on the alert for the starting point of the flames. He wanted to save the piano, but it had already gone to pieces. The strings hung out of it like long hairs, and as he directed the stream of water on it the strings were merrily combed out by the water. Everyone laughed at this comical sight while the shells were cracking overhead and the devastating fire was all about. The fire was soon extinguished, and now the pump chief, the ever-merry and happy machinist, Roth, had to see that the water which had entered was scudded.
He was scarcely through with his preparations and had made his report to the first officer when the latter received this report. "Shell struck in the transhipment room of the Caesar turret. Turret is burning." Order—Flood.
That was a delightful gift. Just like the 24th of January. 1915. At that time all the projectiles of the turret were like gigantic skyrockets, one igniting after the other and burning out with huge girandoles. At that time the second pump master, First Mate Heidkamp, flooded the ammunition chambers. The air was filled with poisonous nitrogen gases. The valves were glowing with the heat and the flesh on his hands was all burned as he took hold of them but he had carried out the orders of the first officers and had saved the ship from explosion.
Now there came a tremendous shock through all the ship—the entire hull seemed to raise itself up and in the first moment everyone thought "the Seydlitz has exploded." But the secure ship went quietly on. It is quite true that a torpedo had torn a huge hole: the armored torpedo bulkhead, however, withstood the gigantic pressure and was only badly bulged.
On the other, the port side, a shell had burst and had also torn a gigantic hole, through which the water poured in streams. Several shells had struck forward. The damage-control divisions pressed forward, but the walls, which were sporadically perforated like a sieve, could not be stopped up; some of the leaks were a square meter in size and the water poured in everywhere. The leakage crew can save nothing, they can only establish which rooms, cargo, and gangways had been penetrated by the water. Thirty or forty reports were received by the damage control. Plug after plug was set up. Engineer Ellrich reckoned feverishly: 2,000 tons of water in the ship and heavy inclination towards the bow. From this latter fact, the first officer knew for a certainty that the fore part of the ship was almost completely full of water. Only the front torpedo room with its emergency exit remained empty—all around everything was full of water. This room carried the ship like an air bubble. There was nothing more to be saved in the front rooms of the ship. The only thing left to do was to go back behind the large armored diagonal bulkhead, even behind the next division, in order to protect this from the entrance of water. Chief Engineer Lucke hastened up and took charge of the arrangements. One leak on the port side was very dangerous. Every possible effort had to be made in order to prevent any further entrance of water. The large mattresses were pulled out and stuffed into the opening. That was not so simple. The edges of the hole were not smooth and even. The iron plates were bent for a meter in length and most irregularly torn with sharp edges and jagged corners. The crew, standing in the water, had great difficulty in working. They pushed the mattresses into the holes. Boards were sawed, fitted together, and fastened on. Beams were cut lengthwise and propped against them, and wedges were inserted between. Each piece had to be first tested and tried out as to how it would best fit. The pieces which were prepared before the battle had already been used up long ago for the smaller shell holes, as one had not counted on so many and such large holes. After hours of work, a planking was at last ready at this place and prevented the further entrance of water. It is quite true, all these places leaked in all the corners and along the edges but this water was quickly pumped out.
In the meantime, the battle was over and night had fallen. In the darkness and on account of the failure of part of the electric lighting, the work of stopping up the leaks was especially difficult and tiring. Here again it was First Mate Schmidt who tirelessly kept the electric-lighting system in working order, even as he did during the battle.
Suddenly came the report, "The bow is burning." A queer thing, everything full of water and still the deck which lies above the water is burning. High flames threatened to reveal the situation of the ship. The damage-control crew went to the bow of the ship right into the midst of all the flaming turmoil and ruins, hunted out and extinguished all the different flames by intense and indefatigable work.
In spite of all the sacrificing work and labors of the leakage crew—the stokers were already accustomed to hard work and here performed work which was absolutely superhuman—the water gradually gained ground. Rooms which were cut off or were not accessible, gangways, cargo, storerooms, and pipe gangways, they all gradually filled with water and the ship settled more and more toward the bow. Now the water rose higher and higher near the front turret. We were up to. our necks. It must have been too much for the personnel, who were surprised by the flood of water and felt the water gradually rise higher and higher. If the water entered the turret then the ammunition rooms would fill. And they could not be emptied. Can the torpedo room, the only remaining air bubble, still be kept intact? And the time really came when the ammunition chambers filled with water in spite of all efforts to the contrary, and the water streamed through the emergency exit into the torpedo room like a waterfall. It was absolutely necessary to save this room. Engineer Walter went down, swam in the room to the leakage room, whose situation he knew thoroughly through frequent practice, plunged down and turned the valve, plunged again and turned it further until he had finally opened it entirely. Now, the huge leakage pumps could pump out the water, and the torpedo room, our swimming bladder as it were, our savior, could be kept empty.
The water threatened to force itself through the front casemates and here again the leakage crew had to stop up the holes with hanging mattresses and boards and wedges and blocks.
The front wall of the fifth boiler room was under water pressure. Many times it seemed as if it were going to bend through. Water came through the numerous cables, speaking tubes, screws, and nuts. One small stream beside the other formed together a strong stream of water and threatened to fill the room entirely. But Machinist Wegner had no such intention. "Fix the leakage props here," he commanded, and the prepared props were quickly braced against the place which threatened to bulge through, and fastened behind. Wherever there was evidence of a breaking of the bulkhead Machinist Wegner saw the place with the eve of an expert, and built in front of it. And he worked indefatigably so that the pistons of the leakage pumps did not stop up. The boilers continued to operate even when it rained considerably in the boiler room.
In the "damage control" it leaked on the bulkheads and on all corners and edges. At times the water came up to the men's chests. But with the help of a quickly organized chain it was quickly emptied by means of pails and buckets, and the room kept intact. For many hours the buckets were busy: relief had to come as the men were ready to sink from sheer exhaustion. The relief corps were also done up and were incapable of further work and all the heroic work which had been performed up to this time was entirely in vain.
The bulkhead broke through and even this room, which had been defended so long and so bravely, finally had to be given up. The leakage crew finally went aft. In spite of all efforts, the ship's hull gradually sank deeper: now there was also a threatening diagonal tilt toward port, and the water forced itself into the casemates. Here again a chain had to be formed with buckets in order to get the water out, and it seemed for a long, long time as though it would all be of no avail: but after many anxious hours, the ship's pendulum showed a slight improvement. And when in the evening the anxiously longed-for and eagerly awaited pumping steamer of the shipyards tied up along the side and laid the long hoses in the casements, the ship slowly righted itself. It was almost a wonder that the Seydlitz still floated—5,300 tons of water had entered her.
A second night began. The leakage stops had to be continually repaired and new breakages had to be stopped up. Rest could not be thought of. Lucke, with the stokers of the Leakage crew, was all over everywhere, and Schmidt also. He was always the first, the right "Seydlitz man—leading everything."
Gradually the ship righted itself. The leakage crew had won. But the ship was not yet in safety and therefore a third night must be lived through unflinchingly. In clothes which were soaked through, freezing cold, stiff from the extreme effort, sleepy from the heavy labor and working as if in a dream, the leakage crew performed its duty.
When a few days later, in front of Wilhelmshaven, the most dangerous quantities of water were pumped out of the ship, the Seydlitz could enter the locks. Now it was finally safe in port and the machinists and the others could be proud of having kept a first-class ship in a swimming condition up to the harbor of safety.
Footnotes
- ↑ Monthly Information Bulletin. pp. 39-43.
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